"Be with the Wheel, my son,"
he said gently, kindly,
with unfathomable wisdom.

This was a moment to remember
but first to live fully, open-eyed.
How fortunate to have been sent the grandfatherly Hans,
the gift of God to a nervous child,
a bearded, wrinkled messenger of faith,
always with a word or a phrase
to unlock the mystery,
to light the dark.

The air could not have been kinder.
Did Hans have something to do with it?
With the aroma of grass and poppies,
a perfect blend, intoxicating.

"You are a rare and beautiful jewel
in an ocean of rocks and bones.
You must learn so much
to live as you want.
You must learn the Wheel."
the poetry of daniel roest